


Eleven Dimensions of Grounded

by cryptonomicon



Series: Gifts & Miscellaneous Drabbles [1]
Category: Marvel, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Superfamily, absolutely nothing serious, birthday gift, forgive me lawd for i hath fluffed, gratuitous fluff, idiot teenage superheroes, superdads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptonomicon/pseuds/cryptonomicon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unwitting parents always find out the truth eventually. It typically never ends well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eleven Dimensions of Grounded

**Author's Note:**

  * For [koppywriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/koppywriting/gifts).



> This is another birthday gift for InkOnIce for her 21st. Make good choices: read good fic.

“You’re eleven dimensions of grounded, Peter.”

The young man winced as his father towered over him. It was a hard thing for him to do anymore, given that Peter had outgrown him at about age fifteen, much to his father’s chagrin. He still wasn’t as tall as Pops, though for that his dad held no grudge.

“Tony,” his Pops said chidingly, and Peter held a little kindled spark of hope in his chest that he may yet live to see another birthday, “calm down. We need to just be glad he’s alright before jumping his bones to punish him. We all have our secrets.”

His father growled and fisted his hands in his graying hair. Peter could almost count how many of those gray hairs had been his fault. There were more and more of them every day. “That does not excuse him from the fact he declined to tell us he has been moonlighting as a spandex-clad arachnoid hero!” his dad exclaimed, though the steam seemed to be emptying slowly out of his boiling rage-bucket. “Nor does it excuse him from not consulting with me first.”

His Pops rolled his eyes, and Peter couldn’t help a small smile in spite of the fact that it could potentially earn him more dimensions of grounding. “He’s sixteen, Tony. You need to get used to the fact that he doesn’t need to ask you for permission to do everything first.”

“I meant for gadgets,” Tony persisted, waving a hand in the air. “Then I could have at least slept at night knowing he was well equipped.” His father shook a finger at him. “You and I are going to spent some quality grounding-time in the shop this weekend, young man.”

“After,” Steve pressed, “we’ve made sure that the situation is handled. Doc Oc needs to be kept after as a first priority. Your ego-equipping-trip can come later.”

Groaning, Peter flopped back down onto the couch and clamped his hands over his eyes. He could almost feel his fathers’ stares on him, and he grumbled out, “Great. Now every hero is going to know that I have the Super-dads. I’ll never hear the end of it!”

“Good,” his Pops said, a tone of almost vindictive pride in his voice. “You shouldn’t.”


End file.
